Build it Up, Tear it Down
by Joycelyn Solo
Summary: A lot of things come easily to super soldier Steve Rogers but his relationship with girlfriend Sharon Carter isn't one of them. But he needs her, personally and professionally, to take on Hydra and other challenges the 21st Century throws at them. (sequel to "Lost, Found and Somewhere Between")
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Marvel franchises or characters (more's the pity), but I do enjoy playing with them. This work is for entertainment purposes only with no intention of copyright infringement.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Steve Rogers/Sharon Carter; Romance, Adventure

**Chapter One**

Sharon wasn't entirely sure how she found herself outside of her old high school auditorium on the night of her tenth class reunion but, here she was, sitting in the car and hoping no one would notice while she debated going in or not.

It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed high school. She'd been active in sports and student government and enjoyed her classes. She'd gotten along well with her teachers and a good majority of her classmates. She had fond memories of all of the typical teenage rites of passage.

She just didn't see why she had to relive them every five years.

Sharon had attended the previous reunion and it had been perfectly fine. She'd been in medical school, with top marks at the end of the semester, and had been dating the fourth-year med student who'd accompanied her.

She couldn't claim such accomplishments this time around.

She'd quit medical school in the middle of the following semester, dumped the fourth-year, and transferred to the SHIELD Academy. As far as her friends and former classmates knew, she'd gone from being Sharon Carter, future doctor, to Sharon Carter, agent of...insurance. Yes. That had been the glamorous cover assigned to her when she joined SHIELD and that was the cover her alma mater confirmed when they sent her a save-the-date to the reunion last fall.

Of course, last fall, Sharon had been an agent of SHIELD and her cover story had been solid. Since then, SHIELD had fallen in the discovery that Hydra had been grown within the agency for for decades. With the dissolution of SHIELD and its assets, many things — including Sharon's cover, job and apartment — had disappeared overnight.

She'd thought she'd landed on her feet, being recruited by the CIA almost immediately, but that lasted about a week before circumstances had her eventually joining Captain America's support team, helping the super soldier put out the fires that had erupted in the absence of SHIELD.

Sharon couldn't tell any of her classmates that, however, as it jeopardized the safety of her teammates. And she couldn't tell anyone who she was dating, mostly because no one would believe that she was dating Captain America himself.

It was stupid, and she knew it, but it was mostly Steve's absence that made going to the reunion such a chore. He was off somewhere with Iron Man, saving the world or something, and she was stuck flying solo, surrounded by people she'd thought she'd left far behind.

"There you are," a voice pulled Sharon from her internal debate.

"Here I am," said Sharon. She pushed the door open and stepped out of the car. "You look great, Mollie."

Her friend twirled in the bright green dress she wore. "I do, don't I? Hank's either gonna eat his heart out on his own or I'm going to feed it to him."

Sharon wasn't quite sure what to say and so she just gave a thin smile. Mollie was the reason she'd even made it as far as the parking lot to the reunion. She'd begged Sharon to be her wing-woman since she'd only recently divorced her high school sweetheart who would also be in attendance.

"Let's get inside. I don't see Hank's car yet but I know he's coming and I know he's bringing _her_ with him."

Sharon allowed Mollie to pull her toward the entrance, listening again to how _she_ was the reason Mollie hadn't been able to sucker-punch Hank with the divorce papers she'd drawn up with her lawyer a month ago.

"Now that bonehead thinks he's leaving _me_ when I was going to be leaving _him_. I just know he did it to spite me," she continued as she dragged Sharon through the doors.

They stopped at the front table to pick up their name badges, Sharon's complete with her less-than-flattering senior picture printed on it. _Why did I ever think bangs were a good idea?_ she thought.

"Why did I ever think bangs were a good idea?" Mollie asked as she pinned her own badge on. "Of course, why'd I ever think that about Hank, right?"

Sharon refrained from reminding Mollie that she and Hank had been happy - and the envy of most of their classmates - for more than ten years, seven of those married and the last five raising their twin boys.

Looping her arm through Sharon's, Mollie forced a bright smile. "Look at us, a couple of single gals out for a night with people we kind of wished we'd never see again."

Again, Sharon only nodded and as she and Mollie were swept up in the crowd.

* * *

It didn't take long for Mollie to ditch her wing-woman. Sharon watched from the table of marching band members she'd been welcomed to as no fewer than four former classmates vied for the affection of the head cheerleader.

The attention was probably just what Mollie needed, Sharon thought. No matter what her friend said, she knew it hadn't been an easy decision going to the divorce attorney when therapy had not worked for her and Hank. Then to have Hank announce that he'd not only been talking to an attorney, too, but also involved with another woman...well, Sharon could understand Mollie's bitterness.

"And what are you up to, Sharon?" asked Amy, former drum major, current mother of three and manager of a local bank. "I heard you lost your job a couple months back. Tough break."

"It was just as well since it gave me the opportunity to go freelance," she answered vaguely, massaging the facts to stay as close to the truth as she could.

"And how's that working out for you?" Jen asked, herself newly unemployed and using the reunion as a networking opportunity.

"It's good," Sharon answered. "Setting up a new office, building up a new client base, that sort of thing."

"Are you seeing anyone?" Jeff, recently divorced construction foreman and former sax player, asked. "My mom says you haven't dated anyone since that Josh guy you brought to the last reunion."

Sharon gave him a benign smile, knowing from her own mother than Jeff had been serial-dating since that divorce. "Starting a business from scratch is pretty time consuming. Dating's not really a priority right now."

"That's really disappointing," a familiar voice said behind her. "After I flew all this way."

Sharon turned and looked up, surprise and pleasure on her face at the sight of her boyfriend, Steve Rogers — otherwise known as Captain America — standing behind her.

"You're wearing a suit," she said, ignoring the stares and whispered "Is that..?"s behind her.

"Tony insisted...," Steve answered and politely accepted the seat one of her table-mates offered as she moved over. "I'm not sure why he cared — or even how he knew your reunion was tonight — but he insisted on dropping me off here instead of taking me back to DC."

"Whatever his reasons, I'm really glad to see you." Sharon leaned over and kissed his cheek then, for Jeff's benefit, planted another on his lips.

A throat was cleared behind them and Sharon smiled at Steve as Jeff asked if she was going to introduce her friend.

"Right," she said, turning. "Everyone, this is Steve. Steve, this is Amy, Jen, Jeff and Sarah."

"Hello," Steve said, smiling politely. "I never made it to my high school reunion. This seems nice."

"I think you just missed your seventy-fifth reunion," Sharon said.

"So you're really him then?" Jen asked, her eyes wide. "Holy crap. Share Bear's dating Captain America."

"Share Bear?" Steve asked at the same time Sharon groaned.

"An unimaginative nickname I really hoped everyone would have forgotten by now," Sharon explained.

Steve laughed. "My life's literally an open book so I feel like this is going to be a very enlightening evening." He leaned over the table toward Sharon's classmates and asked, "What else can you tell me about Share Bear?"

* * *

"I don't think I ever told you how terrific you look tonight," Steve said as he walked with Sharon up to her parents' door.

"You look pretty terrific yourself," she said, leaning into him. "I don't think I've ever seen you in a suit, at least not in this century."

"Tony not only insisted but he apparently picked it out and had it sized for me."

"Like a fairy godmother getting you ready for the ball," she said, smiling as she went up on her toes to kiss him. "I'm really glad you were there tonight. I really didn't want to be, especially without you."

"Your friend Mollie seemed to be doing okay."

"I think she will be. She's riding a good head of mad to get over the hurt. I don't know if it's healthy but it seems to help. And I'm glad Hank didn't show up until well after she'd already been hit on by at least a dozen guys. That probably helped, too."

They stopped at the front stoop so Sharon could fish her keys out of her purse but the door was pulled open before she had a chance.

"Steve!" Henry Carter said excitedly. "Angela said Sharon was bringing you home tonight. I didn't realize you were going to the reunion."

"It was kind of last minute," Steve explained as he shared a small smile with Sharon at her father's obvious enthusiasm.

She gave him a gentle shove, pushing him down the hall after her father while she closed the door behind them. She knew her dad would keep Steve occupied for a while — and Steve was just too darn polite not to let him — so made her way upstairs to change out of her fancy clothes and into her pajamas.

Her mother found her a few moments later in the hall closet.

"I see your dad cornered Steve," she said. "What are you looking for?"

"I'm grabbing blankets to make up the guest bed for Steve."

"Did you two have a fight?"

"What?"

"Why else would you be making up the guest bed?"

Sharon was quiet a moment. "Mom, we don't sleep together."

"But the last time you were here —"

"I'd been stabbed and Steve insisted on sleeping on the floor so he could keep an eye on me."

Angela looked surprised and then thoughtful. "I assume the separate bedrooms are not your choice?"

"Not exactly." Sharon sighed, grabbing an extra pillow, fresh sheets and a blanket. "I don't want to push him and risk pushing him away but..." She bit her lip, shutting the closet door and heading toward the guest room across the hall from her old bedroom. "It's not a big deal. Right? He's from a time when they just took things slowly."

Angela touched a hand to her daughter's shoulder as they entered the spare bedroom. "Honey, are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

Sharon dropped the armload of linens on the bed and turned to shut the door behind her mother. "Honestly, Mom," she said quietly, "Sleeping together isn't the only thing I'm waiting for."

Angela waited, maternal sympathy on her face.

"He hasn't used the 'L'-word," Sharon said softly. "Again, I know courtship was different seventy years ago but I just love him so much and I'm afraid to tell him..." Sharon squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep back the tears that suddenly welled. When she opened them again, two fat tears rolled down her cheek. "I'm afraid he doesn't feel the same and if I say it..."

"Sweetheart," Angela took her daughter into her arms, patted the back of her head as it laid on her shoulder - much as she used to when Sharon was a little girl. "Anyone can plainly see Steve cares very deeply for you. You shouldn't be afraid to tell him about your feelings."

"I know he cares, Mom, I do. A part of me just worries it's not enough."

* * *

Standing in the hallway, Steve let out the breath he'd been holding. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop but he'd been looking for Sharon and couldn't help but overhear the tail end of her conversation with her mother.

He had no idea Sharon was unsure about their relationship, about his feelings for her. She meant the world to him. She'd helped him find his lost friend. She'd given him a purpose and the resources to fulfill it. She'd returned pieces of his past to him. She gave him a reason to be happy about the future.

He backed slowly down the hall, the conversation he shouldn't have heard turning away from him to other topics, thankfully.

He needed some air, to think. He made his way down the back steps toward the kitchen, thankfully avoiding Henry, and out the French doors to the deck.

The evening was cool, the air fragrant from Sharon's mom's garden. He'd spent a lot of time at this house in the beginning of their relationship. After Sharon was hurt by a Hydra agent, she'd come here to rest under her doctor parents' watchful eyes. And his. He'd rarely let her out of his sight, so worried about her and the effects of his super-serum-infused blood as it coursed through her veins.

How could she doubt her place in his heart?

Obviously he hadn't told her enough what she meant to him, hadn't demonstrated, and he needed to fix that.

The only question was how.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sharon awoke the next morning to a sticky note on her bedside lamp and a single yellow daisy in a cup on the nightstand.

She smiled, the doubts she'd harbored about her relationship with Steve seeming insignificant in the light of day with the note in his handwriting and the happy flower he left staring back at her.

She picked up the flower, gave it a sniff, and then wondered how much trouble Steve was going to be in when her mother realized he'd cut a flower from her garden.

_Good thing he's already gone jogging_, she thought as she read his note and pushed her blankets aside. She grabbed her phone, activating the app to track the GPS on his. She got dressed, watching the little blue dot of her boyfriend move around on the map of her parents' neighborhood.

She pulled on her shoes and, quietly as she could, snuck out the front door and stretched before taking off to intercept the dot as it circled toward the house.

Taking a deep breath of morning air, it felt good to run the same paths she'd run as an athlete growing up. Though she'd always been active in school sports and had met the physical requirements of SHIELD, she'd never considered herself particularly fast or strong.

Not until six months ago, that is, when she received four pints of Steve's blood in a life-saving transfusion.

While her dad, a doctor like her mom, didn't believe Steve's blood had any lingering effects, Sharon had never felt better in her life. She wasn't up for sprinting a two-minute mile with Steve or even an endurance match with Bucky but she'd definitely outpaced her personal bests at the SHIELD track.

Henry assumed Steve's blood caused a placebo effect - that Sharon was only faster and stronger because she thought she should be faster and stronger.

She didn't really care to argue with her dad and simply enjoyed the effects, which she did as she increased her speed. According to the GPS, she should have caught up to Steve by now but so far she hadn't seen anyone save old Mr. Jenkins out walking his Bull Mastiff Trixie. She was just about to pull her phone out again when someone fell into step beside her.

"Going my way?" Steve asked as he matched her pace.

"If your way is around the block back to my parents' for breakfast, yes," she answered, smiling over at him as they ran.

"I do enjoy your mom's cooking," he said. "Think she'll make pancakes?"

"I make you pancakes all of the time," Sharon reminded him.

"Yes, but you use whole grains and seeds — your mom uses Bisquick."

At that, she bumped his shoulder with hers and sped up with no real hope of outpacing him. "I guess you don't have to worry about eating particularly healthy," she said when he easily caught up to her again. "But one of us does."

"I like your pancakes, too," he pouted. "But your mom's are just like my mom used to make."

Since he mentioned his mother, Sharon refrained from saying "full of trans-fats" and instead told him there might have been a bag of chocolate chips sitting on the counter just for him.

"In that case," he said, turning to her. "Race you!" And he shot off at a remarkable speed she of course couldn't hope to match. The good news was that she didn't have to, knowing the neighborhood, and took a shortcut through Mrs. Jeffries' backyard that only had her trailing him by a couple of minutes.

* * *

After Steve got his fill of chocolate-chip pancakes, he and Sharon headed back to DC. While it was geographically a two-hour trip by car, Sharon knew the weekend traffic could just as easily turn it into a six-hour nightmare and they wanted to see Bucky and Sam before they left for Italy. They'd been asked by local law enforcement to assist with what they perceived as a potential Hydra cell. From the intel, it seemed like a job Falcon and the Winter Soldier could handle on their own while Steve was busy with other obligations.

With the music turned low and Steve behind the wheel, Sharon went through his itinerary for the week, including updates he'd missed while he'd been off with Iron Man.

"A team of Stark techs will be around starting Tuesday to update our computers and security system," she reminded him as she finished with Monday's schedule and Steve maneuvered them onto the freeway. "They'll be in my way more than yours but they will have access to the entire building. They'll be around for a couple of days every week for the next three weeks. They'll also be updating our comm systems, which will be nice when you boys are in the field."

"Our communications seem pretty good to me," Steve said.

"Yes, but aren't you're just happy not to dial the Operator to make an outgoing call?"

"Funny," he deadpanned. "What else you got?"

"You have your usual mystery phone call at ten Wednesday morning followed by a twelve-thirty meeting on Capitol Hill with Senator Stern's newly elected replacement. I know he wants to offer you his deepest apologies for his predecessor but Aunt Peggy always warned me never to trust elected officials - here or in England. Be careful not to make any promises we can't keep. "

"Should you go with me for that?"

"I can but I'll have to shuffle a meeting with Maria Hill. She says she's got some leads she'd like you and Sam to follow that she can't."

"Shouldn't I be in on that meeting?"

"Not unless you want to go dress shopping afterward."

At Steve's sidelong glance, she explained, "She needs a dress for her sister's wedding and I've been tasked with helping her find something that doesn't make her look like like an idiot - her words."

"You're going to the mall with Fury's former second-in-command?"

"Apparently hooking up with you has raised my stock and I'm no longer a faceless and nameless Level 6. Carter legacy or not, I think Hill only called me 'Agent 13' because she couldn't be bothered to remember my name."

"Well, she's always struck me as very...focused."

"Since her current focus is using us to accomplish what she can't through Stark Industries, I'm willing to go along. I think we have her to thank for Pepper Potts outfitting our endeavor to begin with."

"I believe the person we have to thank for that is you, Sharon." Knowing she was just going to dismiss the praise, as was her way, he reached his hand over to cover hers. "I mean it. We wouldn't be in the position we are, to defuse Hydra and other threats, without you."

"It's a team effort, Steve. Without you, Sam and Bucky to run the actual missions, I'd be analyzing wiretaps at the CIA. Instead, I'm leading the glamorous life of office manager and personal shopper."

"You know you're more important than that, right? How much you mean?"

She had a sinking feeling they suddenly weren't talking about her position on the team and wondered if Steve had heard her conversation with her mother. "I know I'm valued," she finally said.

"Try invaluable, Sharon." He squeezed her hand lightly. "I mean that."

It wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear from him but it would do for now. Instead of answering, she lifted his hand to her lips for a soft kiss and moved on to Thursday's schedule.

* * *

Despite heavy traffic on the Beltway, Steve and Sharon arrived at HQ just in time to see Bucky and Sam before they headed to the airport.

After watching his teammates pull away, Steve grabbed his bag from the back of Sharon's car and headed for the elevator. As he rode to the fourth floor, he contemplated the turn his life had taken since the fall of SHIELD.

He'd spent two months in Europe with Sam Wilson, a retired pararescueman he'd just met, trailing leads and rumors to find the mysterious Winter Soldier, otherwise known as his oldest and dearest friend James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes. While Steve had thought Bucky lost during a mission in 1945, it turned out that Hydra had found and warped him into a weapon responsible for nearly 50 deaths over the course of seven decades.

It wasn't until they returned to the states that Steve learned that Bucky had gone into hiding with Sharon Carter, niece of Peggy whom Steve had harbored strong feelings for during the war. Sharon and Bucky had retreated to her family's cabin in the mountains where she helped him battle the demons that seventy years of brainwashing had caused.

By the time Steve and Sam arrived, Bucky and Sharon had formed a bond he'd been jealous of. His best friend - his brother in every way but blood - didn't remember him but protected and trusted Sharon, a woman whose loyalty Steve had questioned.  
Steve had a difficult time trusting Sharon at first, finding out she was a SHIELD agent and Peggy's niece both unpleasant surprises for him, but he, too, came to care for her - more than he'd thought possible.

Then an attack on Sharon during their stay in the mountains reminded him that Hydra and its agents were still a threat and Captain America couldn't afford to be off the grid any longer and had to do something about it.

Of course, when he'd returned to DC, Steve hadn't really known what that something was. It was Sharon who came up with their current set-up, securing space, resources and funding for his support team.

Using her aunt's connection with Stark Industries, Sharon met with the CEO of Stark herself, Pepper Potts, and brokered a deal that gave the Captain and his team everything they needed to monitor and defend against Hydra's threat, including a living wage, accommodations, equipment and vehicles.

While Steve had very little to do with the arrangements Sharon made with Stark Industries, he had his own connections to the corporation through its late founder, Howard, and his son, Tony — otherwise known as Iron Man.

When Tony had heard about the plans Pepper and Sharon were making, he dubbed them "Team America: World Police" and laughed at his own joke whenever he said it — which Steve didn't get and only seemed to amuse Tony more.

In only a few week's time, a former Stark warehouse used to store munitions in DC was converted into a garage, office, gym and living quarters — complete with Stark tech and and fully furnished by Potts.

While the decor was more modern than Steve cared for, his apartment had begun to feel like home and, again, he had Sharon to thank for that. When he'd disappeared in 1945, Howard Stark and Peggy Carter had preserved the contents of his Brooklyn apartment. As Peggy's health began to fail, her children sold those items to the Smithsonian and Sharon had managed to get most of them returned to their rightful owner.

As he let himself into his apartment, he was greeted by the careful blending of his old life and new. The books on the shelves were a mix of the ones he'd collected since waking up in the twenty-first century with the ones his father had kept in their old living room in the 1940s. A picture of his parents on their wedding day sat on the mantle next to a picture of Steve and Bucky in uniform, taken during the war and reproduced and framed by Sharon, as well as a picture of Steve and Sam taken only weeks ago downstairs in the gym.

There were similar touches throughout the apartment.

A blanket made by his grandmother and given to his mother was laid over a chair in the bedroom - too delicate in its age to use but a reminder of the comfort he'd felt wrapped in it as a child - and his mother's hope chest sat at the end of the bed.

The kitchen even had some of his mom's old pots, pans and serving ware. They, too, were for display only but the sight of his mom's cherished lead-glass pitcher and goblets reminded him of the happier memories from their Brooklyn apartment.

He and Sharon had also done some antiquing outside of Baltimore, in Catonsville and Ellicott City, to pick up wall art and other items that reflected his old life.

Dropping his duffel bag on the bed, he sorted dirty clothes into light, dark and super hero - he'd learned the hard way that it was a bad idea to wash his civvies with his Captain America uniform - and stacked the baskets by the door for later. As he carried his toiletries into the bathroom, he thought that she should have an extra set for as much as her been traveling g lately. He'd mention it to Sharon and they could pick up the necessary items when they went shopping.

He looked up at the clock - picked up at a flea market because it reminded him of the one in his old apartment - and decided he had enough time to sort through his mail, what little there was. Steve Rogers had only been on the grid for two years and didn't live any one place long enough to even get much junk mail — excluding the random things Sam, Tony and Clint Barton signed him up for because they thought it was hilarious. Captain America had a separate post office box that mostly contained cards and letters from children and the occasional "thank you" note from someone he'd saved. He made a point to go through that mail on the first week of every month, an appointment Sharon set up in his calendar for him and arranged with the post office.

He leaned against the kitchen counter as he sorted through the week's worth of mail someone — probably Sam since Sharon had been at her parents' for the reunion — had picked up. There were two credit card offers (_finally building some credit history_), a letter from Life Alert (_ha ha, Tony_, he thought), an ad from Rogaine (_you're killing me, Hawkeye_), a Victoria's Secret catalog (_Sam...or Black Widow_) and, finally, a bagged periodical at the bottom of the stack.

He tore the bag, pulled out the magazine, and immediately shoved it back inside like he'd released a poisonous snake. Of course, in his haste, the bottom of the bag ripped and the magazine - as well as its scandalous inserts - spread across the floor.

As he bent to pick up the spilled contents, he heard the door open behind him.

"Steve?" Sharon called. "Are you ready?"

"Just a second," he answered, sweeping furiously to collect the evidence before his girlfriend saw it.

"I know I'm early but there's no food in my apartment and I'm -" Sharon trailed off as she rounded the corner and caught sight of her boyfriend crouched on the floor with fistfuls of _Playboy_.

"Did I interrupt something?" she asked, she fisted her hands on her hips but the smile she couldn't contain belayed the stern stance.

"I was just reading my mail..." he said, obviously flustered.

"And since when do you get nudie magazines?"

"Since Tony subscribed me to them." He looked up at her, his ears red in frustration and embarrassment.

Sharon knelt down and helped him gather the magazine inserts, despite his protests. "Naked women don't bother me, Steve," she laid her hand over one of his. "I'm sorry we bother you."

"They don't...I mean...You don't..."

"It's okay," she said. "Let me help you clean this up and then I'll buy you dinner."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Sharon's day started as it usually did, with a pre-dawn workout down in the first level gymnasium.

Despite the early start, she was was still too late to workout with Steve, which was just as well since he tended to be more of a distraction - even if that distraction still involved getting her heart rate up.

It was the price she paid for dating a ridiculously attractive man, one who lit a lusty fire in her gut every time she looked at him. She'd seen enough of him post-workout, his hair damp and his clothes sticking to every glorious muscle, to know there was no way she'd be able to focus on her own cardio routine with him lifting weights only a few feet away.

_Seriously, Sharon_, she told herself as she warmed up on the mat. _Stop thinking about how hot Steve is or you'll never get through your workout - much less get anything else - done today_.

With the current state of their relationship, stalled as it was at second base, Sharon also didn't need to get herself worked up by mere thoughts of Steve. She'd already found it difficult to sleep last night after necking on the couch with him during the movie they'd neglected to watch.

Most of the time, she couldn't believe how lucky she was to be with Steve, to be held and kissed and cared for by him. And other times, usually in the dark of night, alone in her own bed, she couldn't help but want more. It had been six months since their "first date" at the diner up north and they hadn't advanced past kissing and light petting.

Sharon knew and tried to understand where Steve came from. For him, 1945 had only been a few years ago and he missed out on the sexual revolution of the Sixties and Seventies. Even discounting that, Steve had been shy around women before and during the war. His relationship with her aunt - something all three of them acknowledged but tried not to be weirded out by - notwithstanding, Steve had almost zero experience with women.

Sharon also knew the merits of waiting, having been through the regret of giving her virginity to a boy in college who had not deserved it - or her. She didn't want to rush their relationship, knowing in her heart that it would be worth the wait, but that didn't mean that she didn't deal with an unhealthy dose of sexual frustration.

Feeling the rising heat of that frustration, Sharon pumped the volume on her metal playlist and chose the winding track Sam had chalked out on the floor. She looped around the sparring mat, past the free weights and machines, up the stairs to the elliptical and treadmill, back down and behind the parking level where her car and Steve's bike sat next to the cargo van they sometimes used, back toward the warm up mat and elevator.

Pushing herself, pouring the pent-up sexual energy into her run, she felt the sweat dripping down the sides of her face, her back, and pulled off her loose-fitting tank top and tossed it on the mat as she passed.

As she entered her fifteenth lap - equivalent to nearly two miles - the gentle ping of the elevator drew her attention as Steve stepped off, dressed in snug jeans and a tee-shirt that stretched across his manly torso, carrying his leather jacket over his shoulder.

The flame of desire she'd been trying to douse with sweat flickered back to life even as a wave of self-consciousness washed over her. Sharon wiped the sweat out of her eyes and wished she hadn't discarded the tank, hadn't lost track of time. She'd intended to be done and back upstairs by the time Steve came down to leave for his first appointment.

She didn't even mind that he was going to see her sweaty, panting, with her hair a sticky mess, her shorts and sports bra soaked with perspiration and her face splotchy from exertion. No, the only thing she was worried about were the scars on her stomach, the crude Hydra logo carved into her flesh by the psychopath who'd attacked her last fall.

Her father told her she could get them removed, had gone so far as to refer her to a colleague in his practice, but she'd convinced herself it was unnecessary and vain and something she should just accept.

But she wasn't quite there yet.

She met up with Steve behind his bike, bracing her hands on her knees and panting a bit when she stopped.

"Good workout?" he asked, draping his jacket over the handlebars.

"You could say that," she said between breaths. "I got kind of caught up."

"Looks like it," he agreed, lifting his hand to cup her cheek as he so often did.

She jerked out of reach. "Steve, I'm gross. You don't want to touch me right now."

"Shows what you know," he said, smiling. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips, picked up his jacket and put it on as climbed onto his bike. "I'll see you later."

"Dinner in my apartment at six tonight," she reminded him. "You promised to bring dessert."

"Wouldn't miss it." He smiled, turning over the engine and waving as he pulled away.

She waved at his back, watching as the garage door opened for him and closed after. She looked at the clock over the door and realized it was even later than she'd thought, grabbed her gear and headed upstairs.

* * *

Since she was behind schedule, Sharon skipped her cool down and went right up to her apartment to shower and then down to her office in the second floor "command center."

She had a lot to do before dinner tonight, planning to the unsuspecting Steve with a special meal and surprise to mark six months of officially being a couple. She didn't think he'd realized the significance of the date and it was one of the few times she purposely left a reminder off of his calendar.

Before she focused on her dinner plans, however, she had work to take care of first and that meant tackling the mundane Monday duties she considered the office management portion of her job. She returned calls that had held while she was gone for the reunion, ordered supplies, scheduled maintenance, reviewed invoices and paid bills and made a call to take care of Steve's unwanted magazine subscription.

According to the friendly customer service representative, this type of thing happened often and, rather than canceling the subscription altogether, Sharon was able to transfer it to a Martha Stewart magazine she figured Steve would enjoy more. When he'd been first adjusting to the twenty-first century, he'd watched a lot of Martha's show and had not only learned to cook but fold napkins, dry and use fresh herbs, make his own fabric softener and create a centerpiece out of everyday household items.

At eleven, she swiped one of Bucky's Pop-Tarts from the cupboard and ate it cold at her desk as she reviewed the surveillance projects she'd initiated. Most of them were long shots - monitoring old SHIELD accounts that had remained mysteriously open, watching former safe houses and keeping tabs on a dozen or so Hydra agents who'd been arrested in the chaos that followed the fall of the Triskelion - but any one of them could yield a fruitful lead if you knew what you were looking for.

And Sharon did.

Several of their team's missions had come from those long shots, which is what kept the tedious task of going through each line of data from becoming, well, tedious.

A few things stood out enough that she made note to follow up on them through contacts she'd maintained from her time as a SHIELD analyst and, in the case of the bank accounts, set up an alert on her phone if there was activity.

With a little luck, she might have new assignments for Bucky and Sam when they got back from Italy.

* * *

Once Sharon finished up her office tasks, she made up for lost time by filling the backseat of her car with groceries and other supplies.

Sharon made her last stop in front of the art store she'd learned about a few weeks ago near Dupont Circle. She looked at her watch, winced a bit at the time, and hoped the clerk she'd talked to last week had everything ready for her.

A quaint antique bell chimed as she pushed the door open and the smell of various mediums greeted her nostrils. She hadn't had a chance to check out the store in person before now and would have liked to look around but didn't have the time.

Instead, she headed straight to the counter and asked for the name of the woman she'd spoken to.

After a moment, a middle-aged woman with bright steaks of blue and pink in her pale hair and a name tag with "Meg" printed on it came toward the front of the store.

"You must be Sharon," she greeted. "I've got everything you wanted already boxed up right here. You said the set was a gift so I took the liberty of wrapping it at no extra charge."

"That's great, thank you," Sharon said, grateful that she had one less thing to do when she got back to HQ. She pulled her credit card out of her wallet and handed it to Meg, admiring the clean lines of the brightly colored wrapping paper.

As she ran card, Sharon glanced around the store and admired the bright colors and samples that adorned the walls as well as the mix of children's and professional art supplies. She would definitely make a point of coming back in when she didn't have to keep it a secret from Steve. If he liked his present tonight, she hoped they could come back together, maybe even taken one of the classes she saw advertised on the bulletin at the front of the store.

Taking note of the upcoming offerings, she felt her blood run cold at the sight of a familiar dark head of hair that moved past the front window.

"Sharon? Sharon are you alright?" Meg called out as Sharon bolted for the door, pushing it open and searching down the street for any sign of the man she thought she'd seen.

"Sharon?"

Sharon blinked, turning back to the clerk who'd followed her out. "I'm sorry. I thought I saw someone..."

"Not a good someone from the looks of it," Meg said, putting an arm around Sharon and guiding her back inside. "Are you okay? Do you want to sit? Or some water?"

"No, no. I'm fine," Sharon assured her, trying to reassure herself. "Thank you...for everything." She grabbed her credit card and receipt off the counter and picked up the picked up the wrapped gift. Tonight was a special night and she forced all thoughts of Brock Rumlow - the man who'd attacked and left her scarred - out of her mind as she headed for the car.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

By the time Sharon got back to her apartment, she was back on schedule with only good thoughts about the evening she'd planned back in her head.

After putting her groceries away, she lit a few scented candles and turned the radio on low as she cubed and sliced vegetables for the salad and sides she'd planned.

Perhaps the best part about the turn her life had taken was that she finally had the opportunity to cook, something she'd always enjoyed but never had the time to do when leading the double life of a SHIELD agent. Now, with two bottomless super soldier appetites - and Sam - she not only had the opportunity to cook but gluttons willing to eat the new recipes she found online or saw on one of the cooking shows Steve still enjoyed watching.

By the time Steve knocked on the door at six, Sharon had changed her clothes and applied makeup, switched the music to light jazz, set the table with two bowls of salad, had the vegetable medley warming in the oven and two fat tuna steaks simmering on the stovetop.

As Steve stepped into the kitchen, setting the bakery box he'd precariously carried on his bike onto the counter and giving Sharon a soft kiss on the cheek, he couldn't help the warm feeling the moment gave him. He knew better than to admit how much the sight of his girl in the kitchen, with the smell of the home-cooked meal in the air after a long day's work, felt like "home" to him. From everything he'd read since waking up in the twenty-first century, those thoughts were outdated, chauvinistic and unappreciated by today's woman.

But that didn't stop the nostalgia that spread through him as he lived the image he'd always envisioned for his future.

"Smells good," he said, swiping a loose cucumber slice off the cutting board and popping it into his mouth.

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells," she admitted. "I figure with your iron stomach I can get away with untried recipes."

"It's not the first time I've been someone's guinea pig." He grabbed another cucumber slice and leaned back against the counter, watching her work. "Anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head. "Everything's taken care of and on schedule. You just have to stand there and look handsome."

"I'll do my best." He smiled, looking around the apartment. The cozy atmosphere she'd created wasn't lost on him and he admired the subdued lighting, music and flickering candles.

"Why do I feel like dinner tonight's not just about dinner?" he asked, gesturing out toward the rest of her apartment.

"Oh?" she asked.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with our first date being six months ago, would it?"

"It might be..." Sharon said, pointing at him with the spatula she'd had in hand to turn the steaks. "I didn't think you remembered."

"I remember the important things," he said, stepping forward and avoiding the spatula as he put his arms around her waist. "Like pie and coffee in a practically empty diner with a beautiful woman."

He lowered his lips to hers and she turned into the embrace and returned the kiss.

"You're going to make me burn dinner," she said against his lips.

"If I wasn't starving, I'd say let it burn," he said, kissing her a once more before letting go of her.

She pointed the spatula at him again. "Save it for dessert, pal."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "One appetite at a time."

Steve helped her carry the tuna steaks and vegetables to the table and they enjoyed the casual conversation about their respective days as they ate.

As they finished dinner, Sharon asked, "Do you want dessert now...or your gift?"

"I get a gift?"

"Of course you do," she said, walking into her bedroom and returning with the a brightly wrapped box. She set it on the table in front of him. "Go ahead. Open it."

Rather than tear into the gift, Steve carefully slid his fingers along the seems and pulled the tape away neatly to preserve the paper. She waited patiently, knowing from his birthday party a few months back that he only went slower if you tried to rush him.

Finally, he pulled the lid of the box up and revealed the collection of goodies inside. When he just stared, Sharon's heart sank a little as she worried that he didn't like it.

"They're art supplies," she explained. "Aunt Peggy mentioned that you used to draw in your downtime during the war. The woman at the shop picked out most of it for me. There are colored pencils and charcoal sticks to go with the sketch pads and paper. And I thought you might like to branch out so there's an acrylic starter set and brushes and a few canvases if you want to paint..."

She trailed off as he looked up from the boxes contents at her.

"Do you like it?" she asked, not sure what his silence meant.

"Sharon, this is..." when words failed him, he slowly drew her to him, lowering her gently onto his lap as he caressed her cheek and kissed her deeply. He couldn't believe the trouble she'd gone through that night, the planning of the evening and the thoughtfulness of the gift.

Not knowing what to say, he poured his feelings into the kiss, his hands making long strokes up and down her back as she clung to him.

The overheard words at her parents house haunted him. No wonder Sharon doubted how much she meant to him, how deeply he cared for her. While he'd known about the importance of the night, he hadn't thought about anything so elaborate to convey his feelings for her. The action figure he'd purchased - similar to the one she'd teased him with during their first date - was a cheap token compared to the gift she'd given him. She hadn't just given him a box of art supplies, Sharon had once again returned a small part of his old life to him. He hadn't so much as doodled since 1945 - not for any conscious reason, he just hadn't. That part of him had just been frozen in the past.

Until now.

He wanted to tell her how he felt, what having her in his life - and his heart - meant. He just didn't know how. He'd watched, read and learned enough in the twenty-first century to know that the "L"-word was given out far more frequently than it had been in his time. People used it to describe their feelings for their phones, cars, fast food...Compared to what Steve felt for Sharon, love by the current definition paled in comparison to what he felt for Sharon.

So how could her tell her how he felt? How could he show her that she was the most important person in the world to him? That his life was richer for having her in it? How could he tell her that she completed him in a way he'd worried was impossible?

Since he couldn't find the words, he continued to hold her, to use his hands and lips to demonstrate his feelings - his need - for Sharon. Finally, slowly, she pulled away, more than a little breathless. Giving him a tentative smile, she said, "I guess that means you liked it."

He swallowed the well of emotion he was feeling, tamping it down until he knew what to do with it, and simply said, "I love it."

Sharon's smile widened. "I'm glad. Let's have dessert and then you can play with your new toys while I clean up the kitchen."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Sharon awoke disoriented just before dawn and it took her a couple of seconds to realize she was on the couch - Steve's couch. After a moment, she remembered that they'd moved from her apartment after dinner and presents last night to his apartment to watch a movie. She must have fallen asleep, which wasn't particularly unusual. She was used to either waking up in Steve's living room with a blanket draped over her or alone in Steve's bed while he opted to take the couch. As a rule, even when they slept over at the other's place, they never actually slept together.

_Until now, apparently_, she thought as her eyes met the face of the still-slumbering Steve before her. He was stretched out, his head pillowed on his arm as she lay facing him and his other arm resting on her hip.

Her surprise was pleasant as she studied him in the first rays of the morning sun. His face was relaxed in sleep, his long lashes fanning his cheek and a faint whistle passing his slightly parted lips as he breathed deeply. He looked so peaceful - and so sexy - that she couldn't help the warmth that spread through her.

She sighed, breathing in the scent of him, and wondered what she could have ever done to deserve him. How many women, outside of romance novels, were lucky enough to end up with the man of their dreams?

When she was young, Sharon had created her ideal man based on her aunt's stories of Captain America. In adulthood, she'd realized no man would ever come close to the one in her imagination and she had accepted that she would have to eventually lower her standards if she was ever going to find a mate. Not even when Captain America was discovered and revived after seventy years in the Antarctic ice did she ever think that the man of her dreams would ever actually be hers.

But, here she was, completely in love with the sleeping man before her and wishing - so hard her heart ached with it - that he'd love her in return. She knew he cared deeply for her, knew she meant a lot to him, but she longed to hear the words from his full, perfect lips.

She stared at those lips now and, after a moment of hesitation, gave into temptation.

She leaned into him, pressing her lips to his and slowly tracing the contours of his mouth. She could spend, and had, hours kissing those lips, running her fingers through his hair and imagining what it would be like to go beyond the gentle caresses and breathless kisses.

Though Sharon loved kissing Steve, being kissed and held by him in return, she couldn't help that she wanted more. She tried to be patient, to understand that he was raised in a different time, but it was just so hard to want and to wait when he was right there and she was so willing.

She caressed his cheek, continuing her attention to his lips, and felt the hand resting on her hip move, pulling her closer as Steve himself deepened the kiss.

Well this is a nice, she thought, returning his probing kiss as he held her to him. She ran her hands down his torso, up his arms and back to caress his chest, thrilling at the passion with which he was kissing her.

His mouth left hers and she nearly protested aloud until she realized it was to trail kisses along her jaw, her neck. She sighed with pleasure, enjoying this new and exploratory maneuver. _Maybe our six month anniversary means they we're finally moving past second base into third_, she mused.

No sooner did she think that than Steve shifted, rolling them so that his body covered hers as he continued kissing her neck and surprised her further when his hand found its way under her sleep shirt — a move he'd definitely never done before — and cupped one of her breasts.

Unable to help herself, Sharon moaned, and her fingers gripped his hair as her mouth sought his again. She shifted her hips beneath his, felt his growing interest in their current activity and wondered if they were going to blow past third base and head straight for home.

"Oh Steve..." she breathed between kisses and arched her back, pressing herself to him. "Steve, I love..."

No sooner had the words formed on her lips than she felt him still and pull away.

"Sharon?" Steve asked, blinking and disoriented. He looked down at her, saw her swollen and bruised lips, realized his hand was under her shirt and slowly withdrew it.

"I didn't...I'm sorry..." He sat up, distancing himself from her, as he slowly shook his head and looked way. "I must have been dreaming, I didn't mean to..."

_Didn't mean to make love to your girlfriend_, she finished for him, as she sat up, tugged the hem of her shirt back down and unable to help the hurt and embarrassment she felt.

She should have known, even in her own enthusiasm, she should have known it was a too good to be true.

"I should go," Sharon said, pushing herself up onto unsteady legs. The heat of only moments before was gone and, in its place, a cold chill took hold. She looked toward the door, prayed she could escape through it before she broke down. She looked back at him, saw the apology on his face, and felt her lip quiver. She bit down, hard, to steady herself and repeated, "I have to go."

Giving him no time to respond or react, Sharon practically sprinted for the door. She heard Steve call her name but ignored him as she rushed out and down the hall to her own apartment.

As the door shut hard behind her, she did run, not stopping until she'd raced down her own hallway, through the bedroom and into the bathroom. Knowing Steve couldn't help his sensitive hearing, she turned the shower on high and, when she was sure the pounding of the water was enough to mask the sounds, she collapsed to the tile floor and let the sobs come.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Steve sat on the couch, staring at the door with his brain still foggy from sleep and the too-real dream he'd been having. The dream that hadn't been a dream; the one that still had his hand tingling where he'd touched Sharon's bare flesh, still had his lips warm from their kisses and still had - other things - remembering the feel of her against him.

He took a breath, sorting the jumble of thoughts in his head. They'd watched a movie on the couch last night, after coming into his apartment to put the art supplies away. It was a biopic he'd been wanting to see and Sharon had fallen asleep about half-way through. He'd finished the movie with every intention of moving Sharon to his bed so she'd be more comfortable but she'd seemed comfortable enough laying there with him and he, selfishly, had enjoyed the feel of her asleep in his arms.

He must have dozed off and then, as he did most nights, he'd dreamt of her; dreamt of the things he longed to do.

_It isn't like I can control my dreams_, he justified. He had a difficult enough time holding himself back when he and Sharon made out, to keep himself from crossing a line with a woman he respected and cared for deeply.

He shook his head and stood, the last bit of fog finally clearing.

After last night, he'd vowed to show Sharon what she meant to him, how much he cared for her. The look on her face when she'd run from his apartment made it obvious that he was already failing miserably in his endeavor.

Determined, Steve strode down the hall, knocked lightly on Sharon's door and listened for a response. When he didn't hear one, he knocked harder and pressed his ear to the door, the sound of the shower the only sound in her apartment.

He hesitated. They needed to talk, had needed to talk for a while, but he didn't know if forcing his way into Sharon's apartment was the best start. However, waiting for a "good time" to discuss their relationship hadn't done him any favors, either, and he didn't know if they could afford to wait any longer.

Deciding their relationship was more important than manners, he tried the handle with every intention of grabbing his copy of her apartment key if it was locked.

But the door opened easily and he called her name as he entered. He heard the water shut off and called her name again, walking cautiously down the hallway toward her bedroom.

He turned at the end of the hall and saw Sharon standing at the foot of the bed, the steam billowing out from the open bathroom door behind her. She was still in the pajamas he'd just seen her in, her clothes and hair dry. Her eyes were red from the tears he knew he'd caused and he hated that he had that power. Sharon was a strong woman, came from a long line of strong women, and his thoughtless words and actions had caused her tears on more than one occasion.

It wouldn't be much of a relationship if we didn't care enough to have our feelings hurt by the other, she'd told him before when he'd inadvertently done just that. It didn't do much to assuage the guilt he felt or make him feel like less of an emotional oaf - and it didn't offer him any solutions for removing the look of hurt from Sharon's eyes.

"I know you hate when I say 'I'm sorry' but I am," Steve said, stepping cautiously into the room. "I'm sorry I was out of line this morning. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you."

She gave him a weak smile. "You weren't out of line, Steve. I just don't think you and I are on the same page about this relationship or, if this morning was any indication, we might not even be in the same book."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You're upset that you took advantage of me and I'm upset that you stopped."

"What?"

"I told you before that you're probably never going to do anything to offend me, Steve. I want you to touch me. I want to touch you. And I want a lot more than we've been doing. I've tried to be patient, tried to respect that you were two decades too early for the sexual revolution. But I grew up in a very sexually aware time and I'm starting to think that maybe it's not that you're not ready, it's that you don't want me."

"How can you say that?"

"How can I think anything else? We've been a couple for six months, Steve, and I can't even get you to take your shirt off in front of me."

He sighed. "I can take my clothes off for you right now, if you want. I want you, Sharon. Every morning. Every night. Every day. That's why I'm careful about how much we touch, why I try to stay in control. Otherwise, with you I wouldn't be able to help myself from doing what I almost did this morning."

"And what was that?"

"This."

He must have moved at super soldier speed because Sharon went from sitting on the edge of the bed to suddenly laid out in the middle of the mattress with Steve stretched out over her. She'd never had any reason to complain about his kisses before, had enjoyed his range of gentle to passionate and all points in between...

But this...she never realized how much he'd been holding back, how he must have restrained himself and she thrilled at the intensity of his mouth on hers. And it wasn't just his mouth, his hands were all over her as well, caressing and exploring as he never had before.

"Tell me when to stop," he whispered as he again trailed his lips down her neck.

"Never," she panted as he pushed her sleep tank up, trailing kisses back up her torso as he slowly removed it and tossed it aside.

Exposed from the waist up, she watched his eyes darken as he took in the sight of her. His gaze more powerful than any words he could have expressed, she reached up and pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside as well. She arched up, flesh meeting flesh, and matched his fiery kiss with her own.

His hands wandered lower with determination and she gasped into his mouth when he honed in on target. Where this side of him had been, she did not know, but she had a difficult time keeping up with everything he made her feel. Her soft moans became strangled cries, then whimpers and finally muffled screams as he continued to demonstrate his feelings for her.

When he was finished with his ministrations, she lay back as limp as an overcooked noodle.

He propped himself on his elbow and looked down at her, a slow smile spread across his handsome face. "I guess I did that right."

"Where..? How..?" she asked, still a bit dazed as she stared up at him.

"I did some studying," he confessed. "I wanted to make sure I was prepared when the time came."

His ears had reddened with embarrassment but Sharon was too weak to tease. Instead, a wave of emotion washed over her, too powerful to ignore this time.

"I love you, Steve," she said, her voice hoarse and breathless.

He kissed her in response, slow and gentle. Though he didn't say the words, Sharon's heart swelled just the same because there was no way he could have looked at her, shared with her what they'd just shared, if he didn't love her, too.

"I think we're on the same page now," she said, smiling in contentment.

He kissed her forehead. "We've got a couple of hours until those computer techs arrive. What would you like to do?"

"You," she said, her smile widening. "But after a nap. You wore me out, Captain Rogers."


End file.
